


On the Wings of Gods

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Canon-Typical Violence, Drabble Collection, Gen, Hybrid Jschlatt, Hybrid Toby Smith | Tubbo, Minor Character Death, Non-Chronological, Respawn Mechanics, Short Chapters, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Video Game Mechanics, god!dream, god!techno, god!wilbur, hybrid Fundy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 6,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27765148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: This is a non-chronological collection of drabbles set in an au where Techno, Wilbur, and Dream are gods.Drabbles may include: Tommy being the only non-god in pogtopia, Schlatt realizing he fucked up, Wilbur Soot Big Brother Moments, some worldbuilding, sleepy bois inc found family, hybrids, and more!
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 117
Kudos: 1001
Collections: Anonymous





	1. The Election

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has more than one drabble because all are short and about the same event, that event being Wilbur and Tommy's exile from L'Manburg, and in this au, Wilbur being revealed to the residents as one of the three gods of the world 
> 
> Wilbur's god name is Wild, in case it's confusing, he's the nature god

Fundy chases after the exiles alongside the other L'Manburg citizens. He's not a disciple of War, he never really wanted to switch patrons since his Creator, Wild, was perfectly fine for him. He's not a disciple of War, but running through the forest with a crossbow trained on two fleeing people sends a thrill through him.

A lot of people forget that Fundy's species, the Lupestians, were more than just humanoid foxes. Wild crafted them more along the lines of wolverines, or coyotes. Sure, they liked chicken and their meat a bit rare, but they're hardly foxes in their entirety. People like to forget that Lupestians are related to the Dirans.

Chasing Wilbur and Tommy through the trees, what few survived Sapnap and the detonation of the original L'Manburg, it reminds Fundy all too much that he is much closer to a Diran than a Human.

-Drabble Change

Schlatt is a man of many words. Lying words, harmful words, you name it. He conned his way into the presidency, beguiling that damned fool Wilbur Soot into getting him unbanned from Dream's lands. He sweet-talked his way into convincing that fucking yesman, Quackity, into combining their votes and getting himself on the L'Manburg throne.

Of course, he regrets ever getting himself unbanned, staring at the raging white-hot inferno of his Creator. He can hear the screams of the people of this nation. He can feel the heat despite the distance.

He tries to swallow the lump in his throat, to no avail. Beside him, Quackity is stock still and practically over the edge of the podium.

It's a magnificent and awesome sight to behold a raging god, especially one as fearsome as Lord Wild. He can only hope that the rage of his Creator is not turned towards him.

-Drabble Change

Wilbur tugs Tommy along behind him as they run. He's holding the young Human's wrist so tightly that he knows it will bruise within the hour, _if he even lives that long._

_Betrayed._

Betrayed by that deceitful little satyr. Oh, it makes his blood absolutely boil.

And to exile them too! Them! Two of the nation's founders!

Tommy stumbles on a root behind him and his wrist escapes Wilbur's hold.

The 'twang' of a crossbow and a thud echo through the air.

Wilbur doesn't spend long contemplating where the arrow went. He pulls Tommy off the ground and urges him onwards. If their pursuers are close enough to fire, then they're not far enough away yet.

"Wilbur-" Tommy tries, only for an arrow to embed itself in a tree to his left.

The Human boy gasps and coughs, causing the god to look back at him. To look at the growing red stain in his side.

Wilbur stops.

"Wil, we need to-"

" **Tommy.** " Wilbur, or is it Wild, stares at the boy he holds. So small, so fragile, so _young._

Tommy looks back at him with fear, perhaps because of their being chased, or the arrow in his side, or because of the unhinged rage in Wilbur's eyes.

"W-Wilbur-"

" **Who did this?** " Wilbur's voice is disconcertingly soft.

A surprised 'oh shit' is exclaimed by one of their pursuers, probably Fundy, who was closest at Wilbur's last count.

"Wilbur-"

" **WHO DID THIS?!** "

All hell proceeded to break loose.


	2. Eret and World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these are all technically four different drabbles but they're all about Eret and the last one is short enough I don't want to post it alone
> 
> World is Dream's god name, he's in charge of everything not under War (Technoblade) and Wild's (Wilbur) jurisdictions, he's considered the most powerful of the three 
> 
> also I use they/them pronouns for Eret in this despite the young age in the majority of the chapter, we stan Eret
> 
> EDIT: sorry for any formatting errors, i copied the drabbles from discord and the formats gone a bit wonky
> 
> EDIT 2: fixed the formatting errors to the best of my abilities, enjoy the chapter!
> 
> EDIT 3: forgot to paste in the part about dreams wings! kinda stupid of me to do since the whole wing thing is an integral part of the three gods dynamics and designs

Eret is running through the forest, feet bare and clothes ill-fitting the weather and environment. The satyr family attacked the manor. It was all their mother could do to urge them through the first floor window before the attackers could enter.

Their feet drag and they trip over a root. A whimper escapes their throat and they curl up on their side. The lingering echoes of a roaring fire and triumphant shouts fill their ears and the forest.

They inspect the soles of their feet and find blisters and red flesh. A sob catches.

A twig breaks. Their head shoots up. A masked figure strides through the underbrush only to stop a yard away. It's all Eret can do to keep quiet and appear as meek as possible.

" **Do not be afraid, little one.** "

The person draws nearer causing Eret to flinch and scooch back until they're pressed against the rough bark of a tree.

" **I will not hurt you.** "

"Stay away!" they shout.

The figure stops for a second before continuing closer. A hand lands on their head and they close their eyes.

" **You are far too young to be out in the dead of night and winter with no proper attire.** "

The stranger picks Eret up and the warmth radiating from the arms and chest lull the child into sleep.

Eret ends up spending a week with the stranger. The stranger tells them to call him World.

It's... nice with World. Of course, Eret would prefer being back home, but after the second day of Eret asking to go home, World had been the bearer of bad news and said that they were the only known survivor of their family and that the manor was little more than charcoal.

Eret screams and cries for the rest of the day. World didn't do anything more than watch as the child screamed and mourned and broke things. World didn't tend to do much more than watch.

The rest of the week went by fast. World spent the days teaching them practical skills for survival and brought them back to the manor. Eret had asked World if he could help them build a small home nearby, World had agreed. A small cabin now sits where the old training field was. World said that this is where he would leave Eret once the week was up.

On the last day with World, Eret was woken up by the shadow of a monster of animals and plants. The monster had introduced himself as Wild and slipped away before they could ask any questions or react.

World had taken Eret back to the cabin. He had slipped a pack filled with non-perishables and basic tools. Eret had held his hand and tugged him inside for one final tour.

Before World fully left the cabin, he had pulled Eret closer and crouched to be eye level, his hands on the kid's shoulders.

Eret remembers asking what was going on. World had only said he was bestowing upon them a gift, one that would let World know where they were.

World reached up to his mask and unclasped it.

Eret had speculated about what World was hiding behind the mask, but they hadn't expected nothing but a white void.

" **Keep looking, no matter the pain. This is my gift to you, Eret of the Manor, take it.** "

Eret was left crying in the doorway with their eyes bleeding and melting onto the dirt, World nowhere to be found. They eventually had passed out from the pain and slept in the open doorway of their cabin.

When they woke up the next day, they stumbled to the nearest reflective surface. Their eyes were pure white and everything was lacking color or incredibly dull.

Later, they would find out the other part of the 'gift' given to them, but for now they just went back to the cabin and started on getting everything set up.

-Drabble Change

"What..."

George gave them a look. He very obviously was thinking that they were being weird right now.

"What do you mean 'what'? It's a simple fact. Lord World is the main deity of the Church of Three Wings."

Eret tried to wrap their mind around it. They did, truly, but they couldn't shake the image of World, the stranger from years ago.

"Describe him. Lord World, I mean. Describe him, please."

"Uh, sure, I guess... Lord World has a white mask, porcelain or some hard substance, that looks like a cartoonish smiley face. He wears a hooded green, short poncho with black edges, black underclothes, bandages on his arms, black boots, and brown pants. His wings are white and feathered too. He's the simplest in terms of looks of the three."

Eret just stared at George. That description was exactly what World looked like.

"You good?"

"I met Lord World when I was a child..."

"What?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drabble 1 in a nutshell-  
> eret: [a child and in very obvious pain]  
> world/dream: ight imma head out-
> 
> not pictured in drabble 2: george consoling eret in their crisis of faith and then calling them a dumbass for never figuring this out before when they literally have worlds patented parasites living in their head


	3. Techno's Festival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Techno chapter! pog!
> 
> sorry if characters are out of character I'm still getting the hang of their dream smp characters
> 
> also, I write the drabbles in discord so they tend to be short, I'm going to try to edit them in ao3 to be slightly longer but I wouldn't expect long drabbles
> 
> Techno's god name is War, he's god of war and conflict, he also shares custody over being god of chaos with Wilbur
> 
> Techno has scaled wings, Wilbur has leather wings (in my eyes both are different types, Techno has dragon wings and Wilbur has bat wings), and Dream has feathered wings, since I believe I forgot to mention this in previous notes
> 
> also posting schedule should be about every other day/once a week depending on how many drabbles I have ready to be posted

It is not often that Wild becomes furious, especially with mortals. Wild's fuse is far from being the shortest or longest of his brothers, but it is still long enough. When Wild's fuse runs out, he explodes. Loudly, catastrophically, _violently_.

There is a reason why the mortals fear the wild, the ocean, the unknown of the caves. _And it is not because they nearly destroyed him before Wither was released._

War is not fond of seeing Wild angry. War's fuse is the shortest, but his anger is short, bursts of rapid fury and then it resets. Wild's anger is long and slow, ever moving forward, ever evading the quickness of running prey. Like a wolf pursuing a flagging stag.

War stares upon the burning figure of his brother. Wild should never be burning, he is water, not fire. _War_ is fire, not water. As equals they will be and as equals they are.

Upon the podium, Wild cradles a soul and looms over the poor schmuck unlucky enough to have set off his anger. War glances at his brother's wings, outstretched and clearly agitated. Under the mortal mask of his disguise, War's own wings shuffle in agitation as an act of empathy for his brother.

Wild had shed most of his mortal mask when Schlatt had driven an ax through the kid Satyr's neck. It makes War nervous. Out of them all, Wild is the most careful of keeping his personas intact. To have him don his godhood so openly yet again does not sit well with War. Doubtless, World feels the same and is watching from a tower or vantage of some kind. World has always liked his high places.

Wild isn't quick to anger, never has been, it's not in his nature. But whatever Schlatt has done, it is enough to push Wild over the tipping point and into the abyss of white-hot fury. 

War supposes Schlatt had messed with the kid's respawn anchor. He had seen the kid's soul go upwards instead of curving towards the Respawn Gate. To execute a child in his care is one thing, Wild wouldn't have gotten so mad if it was just that, but for Schlatt to have tried to permanently kill the kid? 

War pities the Satyr. He'll be lucky to keep his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> techno watching schlatt get the shit beaten out of him by wilbur and tommy: oh he needs some milk
> 
> dream seeing his brother get pissed off enough to go godmode yet again: ahh shit here we go again
> 
> (also like wilbur, or wild as hes known, has a habit of taking trophies from those he kills, one of his most famous examples of doing this is his signature trenchcoat, i will hopefully elaborate more on this in a later drabble)
> 
> thanks for reading!


	4. Philza's Purpose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two drabbles today cuz ones short enough i dont want to post it alone but something i want posted now
> 
> the introduction of warp aka philza minecraft! pog!
> 
> theres more philza drabbles to be posted so i figured id do the first one tonight instead of a fundy drabble

The first to come into existence was World, except he wasn't World then, or a he.

The Overworld had just started, the first realm, the realm to be equally owned by the gods. In the place of what would become World, floated an orb of pure white. The Overworld smoked and burned below the orb and the planet shuddered as the orb descended to touch it.

The orb was alone.

When the Overworld had cooled and life had found its way to the water, the orb was joined by another. The other was an orb of green, what would become Wild.

The orbs were alone.

When the Overworld warmed again, the orbs were joined by another. The other was an orb of black, what would become War.

The orbs were not alone.

Not anymore.

They were together.

Family born of the powers of the universe.

-Drabble Change

Warp was not created by just one god. Warp was not created for any silly little task.

Warp was created by all Three, for the purpose of ferrying souls through the Respawn Gate to be reborn into new bodies or to return to their respawn anchors.

Warp was created due to the influx of new souls becoming too much for the Three to do it themselves.

War and Wild had taken an interest in Warp first. World had taken a while longer to interact with Warp.

Warp had liked talking with two of the Creators. It was through talking with the two Creators that Warp had been given the name Warp.

World had been the one to introduce gender to Warp. Warp quite liked it.

War had been the one to call Warp by his first nickname, Bastep. War had said it was a name for the Piglins' trickster spirit. Warp had liked the name Bastep and adopted it for himself for quite a while.

Wild had been the one to teach Warp the joy of just flying around, of taking time to just exist. Before then, Warp had never had a moment of rest. He had brought one soul to the Gate and moved to the next soul tirelessly. After, he made sure to take time for himself to just exist, as the Creator had shown him.

World had been the one to show him how to fly, back when he was still just a small fledgling Spirit, just created. Warp's wings had taken after the First Creator, being feathered. His wings may be grey in color and not white like the First Creator but the resemblance is close enough.

Warp does not often see the Creators. Not unless they need his assistance or they need to tell him of important news. He misses them but he works nonetheless.

He will continue working in hopes that his efforts will bring them to him more, and not out of a need to share news or require work.

The Creators are gods and he is but a Spirit. He will wait for them and will not abandon his post.


	5. Wilbur's Festival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wilbur chapter pog! i dont actually have many drabbles focused from wilburs pov, that i can remember off the top of my head 
> 
> i dont have many drabbles tbh im lucky ive been able to keep this posting schedule so far
> 
> that being said im going to make the posting schedule either once a week or once every three days, just to give me some more time for drabbles and such 
> 
> thanks for reading!

Schlatt, impatient with waiting for War to go to the podium, twirls around and swipes an axe into Tubbo's neck. It's strong enough to bypass the esophagus and trachea but doesn't clear the spine.

Tubbo staggers back, blood gushing from his throat. Wild can see the betrayal clear in the young satyr's eyes. Tubbo slumps against the yellow concrete encasing him and the light leaves him.

A soft green-blue glow comes from the corpse and Tubbo's soul leaves the body. Wild expects it to fly towards the Respawn Gate, but it continues to ascend upwards.

In an instant, Wild is next to Schlatt, cradling the soul in his hands.

" **Schlatt.** "

"My lord! I didn't expect you to be here! How- how can I help you?" he asks, painfully trying to escape suspicion.

" **You think me a fool, satyr?** " Wild's tone is pure barely repressed fury, and the widening of Schlatt's eyes says he knows it.

"My lord?"

" **You had Tubbo, a child satyr, killed, correct?** "

Schlatt is sweating profusely and looking for an escape now.

"Yes, I, uh, I did, my lord."

" **If not for my timely stepping in, the child I left in your care would not have lived. Explain.** "

Wild looms closer to the satyr. Schlatt takes a step back.

"I may have, uh, messed with his respawn point?"

" **...** "

It's silent. The citizens and guests of the festival are too busy watching the podium, in shock at what Schlatt did and wanting to know what Wild will do to him.

"Lord Wild?"

Wild stares at the soul in his hands. It blinks at him, content at being held close by a friend and protector. The soul knows its Creator and it knows it will not be harmed. Wild looks up at Schlatt and stares at him. The satyr squirms.

" **Run.** "

It's said quietly, near-silent, but Schlatt hears it loud as a firework. Before the word has even fully left Wild's lips, Schlatt is gone.


	6. The Three Creators Are Not Kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a folktale chapter! its not completely a folktale but i tried to make it feel like one
> 
> and uh yea wilbur dream and techno are Not good guys and dont see themselves as good guys
> 
> think of them doing the things listed in the drabble as them during their edgy teenage years, but also keep in mind that they are not doing good things
> 
> EDIT: remembered i drew dream without his mask and wanted to post it here

It's generally accepted that the Three Creators are not malevolent, but not wholly benevolent. This is false. The Three Creators have been cruel patrons and will be cruel patrons for eons to come.

Bastep Ils, noted prophet of the Three, was always quick to proclaim the Creators to be kind but was just as quick to condemn them as the cruelest beings to exist. _It is easy for gods, Creators of All,_ Bastep had preached, _to lose themselves into the cruelty._

The Church of Three Wings likes to forget its past of cultish behaviors and slaughters. The Creators would not forget, but very rarely do they acknowledge the tragedies they inflicted on their Creations.

World, Creator of Humans and the End, massacred End animals until very few remained. Killed those who would not listen. Stole and burned treasures to ash. Harbinger of destruction.

_The most powerful god may be the most absent in mortal affairs-_ Bastep had said- _but his goals are not entirely in your interests._

Wild, Creator of the other humanoid Overworld species, the nature of the Overworld and the Aether, salted earth and dried lakes. Let the hostile mobs of the Overworld run free. Turned the very ground and water against the denizens of the Overworld. Harbinger of famine.

_The wild is something to fear, for the wild gives us life, for food and water are life-_ Bastep had said- _but be aware that the wild and its namesake can and will turn on you for nothing._

War, Creator of Piglins and the Nether, drowned thousands in lava and shook the ground until it split. Hunted millions for sport. Boiled the dirt and melted the sand. Harbinger of death.

_Fire is tamed yet wild, it brings new life into_ _existence-_ Bastep had said- _at the expense of snuffing out enough life to compensate, in triplicate._

The Three Creators did not lose themselves to cruelty. There is nothing to lose themselves to when it is just themselves.

They are cruel, cruel Creators. Yet they are beloved and worshiped, their atrocities excused or forgotten.

It is easy to forgive and forget when the perpetrator is a god. Remember this, gods are gods. They are not Human or Piglin or Enderman or Lupestian or any other sapient creature. Do not mistake their kindness for their sole trait. For what lies beneath is a void of nothing but malice and cruelty.

What is a god but a miserable pile of atrocities and horrors?

-Image

[Image ID: A traditional drawing of a human from the shoulders up. The human is wearing a light green hoodie and a dark green shirt that covers the entire neck. The human's face is blank and light is emanating from the center outwards, the edge of the face is darkest. The human has a white mask tilted to the right with one eye and half of a smile on it, there is a dark strap coming from the mask and looping around the human's head. /end ID]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> this is one of the first drabbles centered on pre-wither (keep that name in your mind, its important) events and the preachings of bastep ils (he is important as well)
> 
> in future drabbles i hope to branch out to more characters, ranboo and quackity in particular, im hoping to also branch out to post festival events since wilbur and tommy dont magically stop being exiled because wilburs a god
> 
> hope you enjoyed the chapter! see you next wednesday (hopefully ^^;)


	7. Philza and the Conqueror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bamf philza!
> 
> this is one of my shorter philza drabbles but i wanted to post it tonight since it adds more to who warp/philza in the au is
> 
> at this point philza is not philza yet so he doesnt go by phil or philza, that comes much later, this is post-wither pre-bastep and warp doesnt become philza until a few decades before the dream smp is formed
> 
> thanks for reading and i hope to post again next wednesday!

It is not often Warp is visited by those who are not his Creators.

It is not often souls find their ways to the Respawn Gate on their own, or while still alive.

Yet there stands a Human, very much alive, in front of the Gate holding a gleaming sword of light.

" _State your business,_ " Warp demands.

He stands holding a sword under his hands, tip pointed towards the realms below. His back is to the Gate and the souls he had been carrying shuffle through.

"I come seeking the Spirit of the Respawn Gate. It is called Warp. Direct me to it and I will ensure your place in my court when I remake the Overworld in my image."

Warp stares into the eyes of the Human foolish enough to seek him out. There is little that can be hidden from his sight.

" _You come seeking me. I am Warp, Spirit of the Respawn Gate. State your business._ "

The Human's eyes spark with greed and blood lust. Warp would frown if he felt that the Human was a danger to him.

"Spirit of the Gate, I will take your head for my mantel! Once I have you out of the way, the Overworld will be mine!"

At that, Warp had snorted and glanced back to the souls entering the Gate. He turns his head enough to see the still blade next to his face and the Human struggling to move it.

" _You would attack the one in charge of your soul?! You would dare to try and kill the Spirit who can erase your soul?!_ "

"Release my sword!"

Warp locked eyes with the Human. He slowly lifted his hand up to the blade and tapped it. The sword disintegrated within seconds.

" _Leave. Before I do to you what I did to your blade._ "

The Human did not stick around after that. Warp has no time for pests nor wannabe Withers.


	8. The Farm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a techno chapter!
> 
> this is pretty close to when the dream smp starts, as evidenced by dream claiming a large amount of land to ensure the peace needed for technos vacation 
> 
> id say its about three months-a year before the residents (tommy, tubbo, fundy, eret, etc etc) come together as one community, technos been on vacation for about a decade give or take a year or two
> 
> thanks for reading! see you next wednesday around 7-8pm est (hopefully)!

War spends a lot of time farming potatoes. His brothers put their foots down and forced him into the nearest fertile valley, blessed by Wild himself, and handed him some seeds.

War does not despise the farm.

The years before the farm were intense. Full of wars, full of conflict, and anger, and sin. He revels in that kind of setting, but it gets tiring at being at his peak power and madness for a century or more. He stopped counting after the eleventh decade.

War is not fond of the madness that consumes him. It robs him of his rationality, leaving him with nothing but cold apathy and the power to eradicate the entire planet at his fingers.

The mortals, World's mortals, in particular, were fond of seeking him out, in the one remaining Nether Bastion, at the seat of his power, amongst his mortals, the Piglins. Most of the mortals who sought him out were erased, souls sent back to their godly creator's hold.

When the wars ended with the arrival of the main aggressors being overthrown, his mortals had rejoiced. Piglins are strong like him. Piglins like combat, but they long ago destroyed their Bastions, leaving their race scattered and splintered, in wars he had only egged them on in. Piglins despise war as much as they love the gold he had gifted his realm with.

War had joined in with his mortals. He partied alongside them and when the little ones were too tired to continue, he had sent fireworks up and dazzled them before their rest.

He is not like Wild, with his many mortal creations, but he still holds love for the Piglins. They are his creations and he is their Creator.

He ignores the dancing under his skin. He has no desire to participate in the next wars, especially ones in the surrounding lands his brother claimed. 

Someday, maybe in a century or two, he'd like to return to his Creations in his Nether. For now, he farms potatoes under the sun he and his brothers raised themselves under. He is content amongst his potatoes and peaceful lands. 


	9. Fox in the Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fundy chapter! 
> 
> i wanted to address fundy and wilburs relationship in this, especially after the election
> 
> fundy and wilbur arent blood related (if you dont count wilbur being the creator of fundys species sksksksksk) but for much of the pre-election time period fundy came to think of wilbur as a paternal figure
> 
> this is pre-festival post-election, a few weeks after the election
> 
> timeline notes: the disc war and the lmanburg war for indepence are six months apart, they happen when tommy is approx 15 and fundy is approx 17, the election is a year after the war for independence, 6 months later is the festival and then another 6 months is the nov 16 war
> 
> dream publicly attaches his name to the wilderlands/smp lands 2 years before the disc war, technoblade has been living there for about 12 years give or take a few years, wilbur shows up a few months before tommy does
> 
> as always thank you for reading!

Fundy approaches the sealed off hideout nervously. It will be the first time he'll be seeing Tommy and Wilb-no, _Wild_ since their exile.

He's lucky he's a Lupestian and that Wild already had an emotional connection to him. After his crossbow bolt had landed in Tommy's side and Wilbur's true nature was revealed, he's been waiting for his Creator to find him and skin him. Yet, it's been two weeks and Lord Wild has made no motions to visit him.

He digs through the wall of dirt, replacing it behind him. His ears are low against his skull and his tail completely still. The feeling of eyes on him sweeps over his body and soul. Lord Wild knows he's here.

Fundy stands awkwardly in the small room. He doesn't dare go deeper into the hideout, he's already pushing things showing up unannounced. Footsteps on stone draw his attention. A moment later Lord Wild is emerging from the depths of the cave.

"Fundy, what a pleasant surprise."

There's no joy in that voice, no anger, no fear, nothing.

"Lord Wild, I-I came to apologize for-" he's cut off.

" **You have nothing to apologize for, child.** "

Great, Lord Wild has pulled out the god voice. Fundy would be sweating under his fur if he was built for it.

"I- Okay. I came to offer my services, and to inquire about the status of my continued existence."

Lord Wild stares at him. In front of him, Wilbur's face morphs into that of Fundy's Creator.

" **Your continued existence?** "

"Weren't- I shot Tommy. I would've thought that-that you would want my pelt for a coat or rug or something."

" **Little fox, you have nothing to fear from me. I know well your dislike of how I treated you and I do not fault you for following the orders of a ruler. You are only mortal, after all.** "

Fundy slumps in relief.

"Thank you, Wil- ahh, sorry, Lord Wild."

" **None of that now! You are my son, and I won't have you calling me your lord! You may call me what you wish.** "

Fundy smiles at him and lets himself be ushered down into the ravine.


	10. Introduction to Sapnap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> id say sorry for not posting last week but tbh its fine 
> 
> heres an introduction to george and sapnap as well as religions outside of the three wings (wilbur dream and techno)
> 
> enjoy the drabble!

Being a Blessed opens doors. It's a convenience very few have. Especially if you're a Blessed belonging to the Blaze Empress and her court.

Sapnap would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy being a Blessed. He enjoys the fire, the warmth, the burning under his skin. The Blaze Empire so rarely Blesses someone, let alone an Overworld Human instead of a Nether Piglin.

Sapnap is close to his Empress. He's never met her and never entered a fortress, but he can feel her wishes and desires for him and her pride in him. She's been with him so long, he struggles to even consider her not being there.

Theology is a grab-bag in Hatten, the grand City of Scholars. You'll find disciples of the Three Wings, worshippers of the Minecart, followers of the College, and the varied members of the Crafted. There's more religions, smaller ones, like Sapnap and his Blaze Empire, and the Endermen loyalists.

George is a worshipper of the Minecart. Sapnap's friend carries a pendant shaped like a minecart of a light blue color around his neck. He knows it's George's most prized and expensive possession.

Him and George grew up neighbors. They didn't live in the wealthiest of neighborhoods but they weren't in the slums. Still, the pendants said to be created by Dan the Diamond Maker are hard to come by where they grew up.

In the City of Scholars, a Blessed of Sapnap's rarity have little need to worry for jobs and money. Yet Sapnap retains his money saving habits and continues his job. It's not well-known he's a Blessed anyway. He'd rather not get hounded his every step by nosy know-it-alls who don't bother to respect his Empress and her Empire.

Eret, George's friend from the Wilderlands, is a bit weird. They claim to have met World, the main god of the Three Wings religion. Sapnap believes them, of course. He has the Blaze Empress in his head, and believe him, she has strong opinions of World, War, and Wild. How can he not believe Eret when the Empress has verified that it is true?

Sapnap keeps an eye out for Eret. They're both Blessed. Eret by World and Sapnap by the Blaze Empress.

At least Sapnap doesn't have to hide his eyes to keep his status as a Blessed secret. Poor Eret, people keep bothering them for their sunglasses.

Sapnap knows George and Eret met because of their shared classes. He knows they struck a friendship when they discovered each other's colorblindness. Good for them, is what he says.

The Empress rumbles in the back of his mind. Sighing, he wipes his hands on a towel and has a coworker take over the register so he can take a smoke break.

"Smoke break", yeah, more like religion required arson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> each of the major religions mentioned are based off of golden age mcyts who will hopefully show up, i know captainsparklez definitely will as he plays a part in erets life post world
> 
> heres the list of the religions ive mentioned:
> 
> College of the World- stampy and his crowd, ballisticsquid, amy, etc
> 
> Church of the Minecart- dantdm, known as dan the diamond maker in universe
> 
> Church of the Crafted- team crafted, skydoesminecraft, jerome, bajancanadian, etc
> 
> Church of the Three Wings- dream, techno, wilbur
> 
> Endermen Loyalists- focused around endermen
> 
> Blaze Empire- worshippers of the blaze empress and her subjects
> 
> (and these two werent mentioned but they play parts in the au)  
> Followers of Warp- worshippers of warp aka philza, death god kind of deal
> 
> Cult of Wither- centered around wither, as mentioned in previous drabbles
> 
> there is ofc more religions but these are the main ones that will make reoccurring appearances
> 
> as always thank you for reading and for waiting an extra week!


	11. The Burned Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> late chapter i know todays been very packed for me 
> 
> enjoy the chapter im too tired to really go into anything here other than to say that this is before wilbur shows up but after dream publicly attaches his name to the wilderlands and unites the various denizens into a community, also that erets eye parasite things give them more than just colorblindness and the loss of visual autonomy

The Manor is dust and ash, only logs and pillars too large to burn remaining. The Manor was largely wood, very little of it was stone or brick.

When they were last here they were young, a child, and so unready for the world.

They drift through the remains, ignoring the memories. As they pass by, a half preserved portrait and its frame falls to the ground. They spare a glance at it.

It's their portrait of them and their parents, from when they were debuted to the larger family. Their parents faces and bodies are burned away, all that remains is their father's hand on their shoulder and that stupid suit they were wearing.

They haven't been back here since the fire. They should probably take down the pillars or something. The Wilderlands are assembling back together, made by the children of the clans and families that warred for centuries.

It won't do to leave the remains of the Manor just sitting here. Not with what it stands for. Not with what the Family of the Manor did to so many of the others' families.

They move on from the portrait. It doesn't do to let the mind wander in a place of unrest like this.

They duck under a fallen beam and emerge into where the Crown was.

They stop. There are spirits and Spirits in here. The magic that surrounds the beings permeates the room and gives it a heavy blanket of distrust and anger.

Luckily for them, the beings won't notice them if they stay very quiet.

They tiptoe around spirits and Spirits until they are in front of the dais holding the Crown.

They weren't supposed to wear it. They may have been Main Branch but they were hardly Heir. But their family is dead and they are all that remains.

Eret of the Manor dons their ancestral Crown and exits the skeleton of their childhood a new person.


	12. Herobrine, The Conqueror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy the drabble!

This... is the _Tale of Herobrine._

He was a Human. A Mortal born with ambition. He had the great Desire to be Known.

He was not bad. Not originally. Herobrine is a name used to scare the children of the Overworld these days, but in his time, he was a Hero.

He was revered by Humans. He was the Champion of Harsa, the Old Kingdom that sat its power where the Wilderlands are.

But something... _twisted_ him.

He slaughtered the royals, stole their Crown. He massacred the Knights and the Guards, melting their armor and weapons.

His greatest Sin was Stealing the Eyes of the World from a pious hunter who had stopped hunting.

World did not Erase him, for the First Creator was curious. He wished to know where the Villain would go.

And so Herobrine used the Stolen Eyes to forge a sword of molten light. With that mighty sword he conquered the lands of Harsa and expanded outward until he was the most powerful man of the Overworld.

Yet he craved more. He wished to remake the Overworld in his image. A world where he was the Creator.

So he journeyed beyond the realms to the Respawn Gate and battled the mighty Angel of Death. He left defeated, his wounds severe. His sword destroyed. His pride dust in the wind.

Herobrine disappeared after that battle. Harsa and the lands he conquered fell to ruin.

Legend says that World ripped the Stolen Eyes from Herobrine's head and left him a pitiful beggar in the woods.

Legend says that Herobrine died alone, starved and frozen.

What the legend does not say, is that his children cared for him. They built him a Manor of solid dark oak. They laid the Crown he stole upon his brow and laid him in a plush bed.

His family still lives there, in that Manor in the Wilderlands. Or, they did. Until the Satyr clan burned it to ash and left the young Eret the only survivor.

They look so much like their Ancestor. Herobrine watches over his descendant, make no mistake. Eret is a Blessed of World and a Descendant of Herobrine.

Greatness becomes them.


	13. Ranboo the Trickster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> late chapter yea but here we go first ranboo drabble pog!

Ranboo is curious of many things. He is a Trickster, not one of the great Spirits but plenty powerful himself. It is in his nature to be curious. A Trickster is only as good as its curiosity, is what he always says.

He does not look natural to the Endermen. He is an End spirit, created by Cselkcess the Life-Bringer. His job is to cause mischief, to instill humility in the End.

He looks more like The Creator mashed His face with an Olurr, an End creature similar to Endermen but shorter and less whimsical, a creation of Anjure the City-Breaker.

He has never met The Creator, could never hope to. He is just a spirit. Sure, he's almost Spirit levels of power but he is still just a spirit.

He doesn't really want to meet The Creator. He remembers The Devastation after all. So many animals, people, _spirits_ , dead. Because The Creator was bored.

No, Ranboo does not want to meet The Creator. The Creator isn't even his creator, Cselkcess will always have that title.

One thing Ranboo is curious about, is the Voidless World the Endermen whisper about to each other in soft _vrrs_. The World of the Lookers.

Alas, as a spirit, dimension travel is far beyond him. He'd need a portal or a power-up to even consider it. Seeing as the portals are forever closed by decree of The Creator and power-ups are rarely given to Tricksters, he is out of luck.

It doesn't matter. Ranboo is not supposed to be a Trickster who seeks answers to questions. Ranboo is a Trickster to remind the Endermen that just because they are The Creator's First Creations that they are not the end-all-be-all.

Call it a cruel existence. Ranboo cannot dispute it for he knows no other existence. Cselkcess created him to do his job, and he will do it, regardless of his wants and desires.


	14. The First Piglin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a techno chapter! pog!
> 
> this ones about piglins and the nether
> 
> uhhh there's not much I can think to say on this beyond it expanding the world-building of the au
> 
> thank you to all the readers!!! you're all so cool and I really appreciate that you take the time to read this disjointed drabble fic
> 
> thanks for reading!

World was the first to create sapient life. The Endermen. Three meters tall and covered in very dark purple or blue chitin shells. War had always admired them for their strength, he _is_ the god of war after all.   


Wild had been the second to create sapient life. The Dirans. Two meters tall on average, large bipedal wolves that weren't wholly wolves. War had liked them for their warrior culture and mind for strategy.  
  


War was the last to create sapient life. The Piglins. Long after Wild and World had populated the Overworld with Humans, and Dirans, and Lupestians, and Satyrs, and other creations of Wild's, War had breathed life into the Piglins.   


He took what he liked from World's creations. The Endermen's strength and Humanity's cunning.   


He took what he liked from Wild's creations. The Diran's warrior culture and mind for strategy, and the Satyr's stubbornness, and the Lupestians beguile and tricks.   


He took what he liked and gave them to his creations.  


World and Wild had given him any help he'd needed, and any advice they could remember from their early trials.   


When asked where he'd put the Piglins, he had only one answer. His realm, the realm he made with his own hands and filled with flora and fauna with the blood and sweat of his body. The Nether.  


And so when he had finished the first Piglin in the cradle of the Nether, he had rejoiced. Here would be the species fashioned after his likeness. Here would be the species that he could intermingle with and enjoy himself with. Here would be _his_ Creations.  


He hauled the carved statue of netherite to the center of the workshop.   


He took one last day to look for any impurities, any need for details, anything he had missed.   


He took a step back from the statue when he was done and smiled. He breathed life into the statue and helped the Piglin stand. 

  
The Piglin was amazing. War smiled and allowed himself to laugh.


	15. Non Canon #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a noncanon drabble! since wilbur being a god derails basically everything post festival ive been mostly focusing pre festival and all that until i realized hey i can still do post nov 16 stuff itll just be noncanon to the au! so yea!
> 
> (also im going to title the chapters from now on, im going back and doing past chapters tonight, just for organizational purposes really)
> 
> enjoy the chapter and thanks for reading!

Ghostbur is an abomination, World decides.

Wild was never supposed to forget his immortality. He was never supposed to believe himself so unerringly mortal that when his corporeal form is destroyed, he believes himself to be dead.

Ghostbur. A stupid name for a god. For his brother.

World knows that War never forgot his true power. Wild got too close to Tommy, got too mortal. Despicable.

The Wilderlands have been his for almost two decades now, yet the Human child, the survivor of the Runemakers, has thrown the land into anarchy.

No, something has to break.

_And that something is Tommy._

Tommy of the Runemakers has made the Wilderlands a chaotic place full of bloodshed and hostility once more.

World will not allow his brother's vacation to be interrupted by an upstart little _Human_. He will not allow War to descend back into the madness. He will not allow Wild to lose himself to the Call.

There's only one solution. Tommy must die.

He grins and sets down next to the Satyr child. His wings neatly fold themselves after his feet hit wooden planks. Slinging an arm around the child's shoulders, he allows himself sadistic glee at what he will bring to the child-soldiers of his lands.

"Say Tubbo, I heard a rumor about George's new house and Tommy..."


	16. Bastep Ils: Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new update schedule! forgot to tell yall two weeks ago! its every other week now since im not writing drabbles as often as id like to keep the every week schedule, ive mostly been focused on the magnus archives recently instead of dsmp
> 
> anyways philza chapter pog! its an older one from when i first created his role as warp so there might be some continuity issues but whatever
> 
> hope you enjoy the chapter!

Long after Wither was sealed away, Warp was visited by the First Creator. He had been given leave to go about life as a mortal would without worrying about his duties.

Warp had chosen the name Bastep Ils for what the Second Creator called 'vacation'. He had taken on the appearance of a Human, keeping his wings out of sight. He hid his horns and dulled his claws to better suit his new appearance.

He had already looked like a winged Human anyway. He just needed to change a few things to look fully Human.

And so Bastep Ils was born. He spent his vacation wandering the Overworld.

During his travels he had encountered the Third Creator. The Creator had recognized him but had chosen to not approach, and Bastep had acquiesced to one of his Creator's wishes.

Bastep Ils would be written into the annals of history as one of the most devout worshipers of the Three Creators and is credited as the reason that new interpretations of the Creators emerged.

Warp had enjoyed his vacation.


End file.
